1mmortals
by iCantDancePeriod
Summary: Emmett McCarty has gotten through life the best way he knows how- cocky witt and his best friend(and love of his life), Jasper Hale. But all that changes with a girl, a divine mission, and a choice. Not that a bronze head of hair helps. Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight...or anything Stephenie Meyer touches. I do own a keyboard, and snarky comments about hot boys.
1. Chapter 1

This is how it ends. I can feel my life slowly fading from me. And for the first time ever, I genuinely regretted the way I lived my life. I did absolutely nothing of great importance. My greatest accomplishment may have been that piece of bagel I ate half of this morning. All the great things older people tell you you'll do? Ha. Zilch. Nothing. I couldn't even save my best friend. And now my body is strewn across the couch, bleeding out onto everything, onto my white wife beater, onto my homework, and I wish the whole thing would've happened another way. But it didn't, and I'm left to drain out. Guess it's a good way to go. My couch is still as musty as it's ever been. Mr. Li will wash out the stain and sell it to another tenant. My apartment will be stripped clean and all of my things will be sent up to my parents in Wisconsin.

Speaking of my parents-the very people who raised me to be the strange type of guy that I am-I wondered if they would even care. My mother, the world renowned Dr. Phyllis McCarty, had no time for me. Especially since she remarried and got another family of her own going. I'm barely mentioned in the articles brimming with the stories of her many accomplishments and the tales of her family's troubles and whatnot. Her husband, my stepfather, is a quiet spineless man who does nothing all day but serve her every whim. I suppose it's because she makes most of the money in the house whereas he makes little to nothing at all…ever. The kids are barely worth mentioning. They're like perfected little copies of me. Everything they touch turns into gold whereas my palms produce manure every time. At least it's fine crap. Mom would not give a rat's ass about me dying. My dad can't because I'll be joining him soon. My life was wasted. That was the end. At least it should have been. Should have blinked out like one of those Christmas lights that you don't want to replace after thirty years of use. I was done, with no natural way of coming back. Until this bitch came and ruined the entire thing in one fell swoop. I never saw her walk in, but I will never forget that face or the trouble it had put me through.

**Earlier That Day… **

"That'll be $28.95, here's your check. Have a nice day ma'am," I recited a little more monotonously than I should have. My job was pretty simple. Serve people, clean up after people, and always do it with a smile. If I hadn't have been cut off and scraping pennies and nickels together for tuition, I would have burned the place down a long, long time ago. But at Joe's Eat and Go, the customers came before anything. Even if customer in particular weighed at least 370 lbs. and had the attitude of a high-school girl half her age and less than half her weight.

"Oh, and can I get an order of Double Fried Chili Fries with extra cheese and meat, one—no make that two—of your Sirloin Burgers, and a large Diet Dr. Pepper. Thanks, babycakes." The power plant of a woman decided to add insult to gluttony with a wink which looked more like a hippopotamus with Down's Syndrome having a stroke. I drug a smile up from the bottom of my being so I could turn around and not have to deal with this anymore. Brushing my hair back out of my eyes, I happened to pass my favorite person in this joint.

"Em, I love you man. But you have to stay in the mandated dress-code. One day, the health inspector might come in and decide to give us a B rating due to your fashion statements." A genuine grin spread across my face. Mr. Steve was a strong, old black man with wide shoulders and wrinkles earned from working hard most of his life. It certainly paid off. This was the first restaurant of a few around the Seattle area—Joe's was quite famous and the food wasn't too bad.

"I'll try to keep that in mind-even though I am your favorite employee and you don't give a rat's ass anyway." I chortled while picking up a few trays the new bus boy missed. That was one thing about me. I could do about almost ten things at the same time and get them done with high efficiency. Wonder if that's why everyone steps on me like an abandoned piece of gum on the sidewalk. As I breezed through the double doors into the kitchen, I see the one person who constantly tries to challenge that thought— Bella. Everyone wanted her. Everyone wanted to be her. The part of me that I thought of as a funky demon on my shoulder just wanted to drown her in all that dishwater she should have been washing dishes with, although the angel was heavily against it.

"Jasper, stop that!" She giggled in that high pitched whine that sounded like a European police siren. With her smoky-made eyes, lush chesnut locks, and a body exploiting the secrets of the female species, Bella was revered as a living goddess. Personally, I thought she was a highly overrated trollop. And that trollop was spread on the sink and all over him. And it wasn't like she didn't have anything else going for her. In her "sex-spot" work spot, no one was safe. But there he was.

"Bella, you do know I love you, don't you?" Every time he said that, a new part of me decided to break off and die. With just a few words, he'd turned my mellow day into the stuff of litter boxes. Jasper Hale has been my best friend since junior-high, when he spilled vanilla pudding on the crotch of my favorite jeans. Since then, we were inseparable. I care about him more than myself, more than breathing or feeding Tiny Cat. And he loved that bitch. As I tried to get out of the closed space as quickly as I could, he noticed me standing there.

"Emmett, didn't see you there!" He quickly dropped the Jezebel and snatched me up onto an air tight hug. He was a hugger, even though i was the igger one. The Wispy ends of his hair tickled my cheek as I tried to get out of his grip. "Let me go, Conan." I squeaked, running out of useable air. He placed me back on the ground, with one of his widest smiles plastered onto his face.

"I just missed you. What are your plans for tonight?" He asked. Hopefully he had something good to follow with that, because I had nothing. Whether it was playing Borderlands 2 or hitting up the nightlife, I always had time to be his best friend. Well, except when I was slaving over school notes. Pathology sucks. Bella had begun tapping her foot and both the demon and angel agreed that the bitch be put in her place.

"After my shift I'm about as free as air." I smirked, maybe a bit too flirtatiously. "Air is fifty cents." Bella retorted, the lasers in her eyes set on insta-kill. "Well, maybe it's about time you filled up." I blasted back, earning a few chuckles around the kitchen. Bella, instantly, had a look of scorn upon her face that would make Hitler soil his britches.

"I'm not doing anything, unless you wanna crash at my place again." Jasper shrugged, then ran his hand through his golden curls. Bella sat there, her signature pout almost etched into her features.

"But I thought we do that thing….tonight? You said-" "Hold it, love. I said we would do that when the time was right. I want to make sure I give myself to the person I am meant to spend my life with." Now, that was one of the qualities I loved about Jasper. He was pure in every single way-innocence incarnate-where I was pretty dark. Guess that's what drew me to him. Bella, however, was not very pleased with the sudden topic change.

"Dude, you're such an asshole. You might as well go, I have to work." "Really?" I mumbled under my breath while picking up the huge ass order I still hadn't brought out to the equally proportioned manatee waiting for it. My shift was almost over and I'm pretty sure Tiny Cat had ripped into another case of toilet paper as retaliation for being starved. Jasper stepped back astonished—as always—at her manic case. Sensing the argument waiting to happen, I stepped in the line of fire.

"Bella, my shift is almost over. I'll trade you for the close and meet you guys at Seven's." I gave her my best fake smile.

"You guys could use the alone time." The she-demon thought about it for a nano-second before hopping off the counter and chucking the dish towel at me.

"You owe me one, Emmett McCarty," She chimed, instantly making me flare with discord to her presence. Taking Jasper's hand, she flounces out the door, making sure she bounced along the way.

"Of course I do," I whisper, throwing the towel at the sink and picking up the food. It was gonna be a long night. At about ten o'clock the restaurant was pretty dead. By 10:15 I considered closing early.

"Fifteen more minutes, just fifteen lousy minutes," I chanted while wiping down all the table tops. Howard, the thirty-something year old pothead, was all I had left to help me out. He stood in the kitchen, smelling of Visine and cannabis. Nothing was cooking, and no one was coming in. The only tables still left were the corner booth, monopolized as always by a pair of grumpy old farts drinking coffee and grumbling about how things were better in the old days—you don't get a whiskey shooter like you used to get in the old days, we had proper scotch in the old days, when I was a little boy we used to inhale it for supper—and a tall blond woman at one of the high-tops, her back to the counter, toying with a salad and a slice of peach pie I had brought to her table forty-five minutes ago at the height of the rush. Contrary to all laws of gastronomy, her portions seemed to have grown larger rather than smaller as she pushed them around her plate with her fork. Getting a little more vexed than I ought to have been, I grabbed a pen and tightened my smile a bit. Knowing Edgar and Ralphie weren't going anywhere, I turned my attention to the girl tossing the salad.

"Can I get you anything else, ma'am? " I asked, gnawing on the cap of my pen a little in agitation.

"You're such a gentleman! That won't be necessary. I—we—won't be staying long." She turned and my mouth practically hit the ground. Light blonde curls framed her heart-shaped face, almond shaped eyes containing the greenest color I'd ever seen. She belonged in a high fashion magazine, not this diner. She pulled out a chair and sat down in a most seductive manner, the leather ensemble she wore tightening around her curves as she did so.

"Emmett McCarty, am I correct?" At that point I couldn't do anything but nod my head like a lumbering idiot. Something felt odd about this girl. She seemed too pretty, too sweet. As she took off her jacket, I couldn't help but notice a brand like tattoo on her left forearm, a harsh red triple loop against the creamy white skin. It looked as if someone added a center loop to an infinity symbol, with a bold line across the center.

"Well, are you the fucking kid or not?" she snapped me, bringing me back to the real world.

"Yes," I replied in a meek sound unlike myself. The air itself started to around us, closing in on me uncomfortably.

"Well then, introductions are to be made. I'm Rosalie, hailing from Savannah, Georgia. Also the Second Sister of Fate, an' I'm gonna make sure you awaken all proper and such."

"Awaken? Excuse me lady, I think you have the wrong guy," I scoffed, trying to make way past her and back into the kitchen when she stood up again. This time it felt as if she were ten feet taller than me.

"You don't understand boy, we are on a tight schedule and even though you aren't what we'd expected I figure you'll be good enough anyway. Do me a favor and try not to kill too many people while we do this, 'kay sweet thang?" I opened my mouth to protest when she latched on to mine with viper like reflexes. Nothing but dread filled me as I fell deeper and deeper into the darkness of her lips.

_Every religion has a telling of it somewhere. A version if you may, tiny little facets of the truth. The Christians have Eve, the Greeks Persephone and Pandora. In the end it all starts with a woman. She is nameless but has every name. The Gods created her, a beautiful and docile creature to be the bride of all of them and give birth to a world of peace and unending dedication. But the One Who Is Scorned saw her and defied all odds to have her as his own. He stripped his sash of gold and cast his crown at the feet of the gods, hoping this would prove his devotion to her. But, they all laughed at his follies and cast him from the Garden, everlasting. This turned his heart bitter and in his newly forged hate he blessed the maiden with the only blessing he'd ever give. He gave her the true Dominion over everything and everyone. Her eyes had been opened and she saw the debauchery of the so called Gods. And so she wept and found that life grew from her tears. And with that, she promised to create a race free of the binds of greed that was laced into the motives of the previous deities._

My body surged at the new information being shoved into me. The truth of everything began to unfold as i delved deeper into the visions I was receiving. I lived thousands of lives, men, women, animals, trees. Birth, death. The feel of the sun on my leaves as my apples ripened in my branches. The wet hot terror of the night, a darting scurrying prey fleeing snapping jaws. A sunbeam rippling through a pond, illuBellating flashes of silver sides as brothers and sisters scatter before an egret. The fear as my father beats me for not selling enough candles on the street, and threatening to sell other things if I didn't make him enough money. Pride coursing through me as I am hunting with my tribe through nameless dark jungles for things that threatened to hunt us first, just for the glory of conquest. Delight. Terror. Love. Sorrow. Regret, anger, amusement, joy, hungerlustaffectionresentmentsatisfactionlaughtertearsragefearpain PAIN! My eyes snapped open, unseeing. The piercing sound of pain intruded my senses. It took a while to realize it was me.

* * *

I recovered not soon after, my forehead slick with sweat. That "Rosalie" person was bent over me, waiting for me to wake up.

"Rise and shine, sweetie. You got some things to do now that the process has started." I got up and dusted myself off.

"What process?" I asked, already knowing deep down the next words she was about to say. As the next sentences cascaded from her mouth, I felt myself break. "Honestly, you've got the wrong guy." I said, backing to the door. Edgar and Ralphie had gotten over their laughing fit from watching me pass out and had moved on to whatever else it is two grumpy war vets do at this hour. Rosalie sauntered toward me, her hips swaying like white oleander in a breeze.

"I did not just sit here, order me some bag lettuce from Mexico on a plate and a pie with peaches that probably ain't even been dropped on Georgia soil, for you to sit here and tell me you ain't who you are 'cause I happen to know a lot more than you ever would, boy. Now, what you're gonna do is be nice and calm and come with me. We got things to do." She then looked down and grimaced in distaste.

"Gosh darnit, these are Louboutins."

"I don't want this. I don't want any of it!" I screamed out to her. Before she had an opportunity to wrangle me up in my insanity, I bolted out the door. I just kept running, letting everything else fade away.

"Of all the creatures that were or will ever be, you are the closest to Her. Your purpose is greater than anything, even the people you love the most. And you will lose that person. Nothing can change that. The threads have decided." I felt myself move faster than I ever did, fighting against the weight of time. I prayed it wasn't too late as the electric sign for Seven's came into my sight.


	2. Chapter 2

I knew better than to be blindly running in the middle of the night. Anything could have happened—mugging, rape, random occurrence of a dragon swooping down and rolling a one on my reflex save. But none of that mattered. The feeling of pure dread just wouldn't go away. At least that was the case before I tripped on my shoelaces and bumped into the nearest stranger. As I stuttered to come up with a quick apology, it finally hit me. The tall blondie with green eyes and the cheesiest grin was none other than Jasper. "Hey man," he welcomed me, encasing me in that same tight hug I always get,

"I sent a text your way not too long ago, what's up?" Way to remind me of all the spectacularly grand shit my life had been spewing out at me tonight.

"Nothing but hanging with you, dumbass." I covered up with a smile. He smiled back, but when I looked up to his eyes, it looked as if he had been crying. If that wasn't a warning sign, I don't know what would be.

"You okay dude?" I asked, giving him the "tell me now or I'll whoop your ass to the moon" look.

"It's good man, Bella just…" He trailed off in thought for a minute before shaking his head and trailing into the bar. Sighing, I followed after him. The place was about as dry the "Do Not Eat" packet in a box of crackerjacks. Angela was cleaning her glasses as usual. Jasper sulked off to the men's room and I took a seat at the bar. On a better day, the place would be packed to the corners, mostly horny drunks trying to get at her—the girl's chest could have burnt at least two of the topless towers of Ilium, or launched at least thirty ships. The fact that the bar was empty meant one good thing: druggage.

"Hey Angela, what's on the menu tonight?" I asked, balling my collected tips in my right hand. I could go hungry for a half a day if it meant calming down my friend—and myself. '

"You're such a dweeb, McCarty." She replied, sweeping her long dreads from her face.

"You're in luck. My dealer's dealer got a good deal on some Canadian Red." I looked at her, and I couldn't help but ask.

"What the hell is in Canadian anyway?" I asked jeeringly, earning the scowl only Angela could give.

"Like I have a clue, I just sell, dude. Fifty for an ounce." It was just my luck I had made twenty-five bucks tonight and I had thirty from before that. I handed her the cash and she slid the baggie to me in a highball glass, just as Jasper came out of the restroom. His long face shortened slightly as he caught sight of the overflowing glass in front of me. He still wasn't his usual cheery self, but at least he no longer looked like Tiny Cat after her weekly bath.

"Nice! Need me to chip in?"

" No, I got it," I replied, "Joe's has been good to me this week."

"I'll get the next one, then," he said, coming up next to me and taking a seat at the bar.

"And don't even try to argue, you've picked up the last three for me when I had that ticket." I spread my hands wide.

"Hey, it was my pleasure. Besides, you bought the bong I'm gonna smoke most of it with." He gave me a flash of that stunning grin before returning his attention to the glass. He pulled a pack of Zig Zags out of his jacket pocket and flicked it at me. I made an attempt at catching it out of the air, but it bounced off my shoulder and landed on that little kick block thing they always install under bars for reasons I've never been able to fathom. I've always ended up stubbing my toes on the damn things while drunk. I ducked under the bar and fished out the papers, then efficiently ground up a few buds in the little yin/yang grinder I picked up for three bucks at a flea market downtown. Nice stuff. Sticky, which had a nice feel to it. Rolled up neat as anything, too, so a few moments of concentration sufficed to produce a couple of tidy little joints with no unwieldy lumps or bits of stick poking through the paper. I flicked one back at Jasper—it went wide, but he barely caught it between two fingers—and we headed out back. He'd picked up a couple of beers from Angela while I was rolling, so I duked her three bucks by way of a tip. We service industry folks have to look out for each other. No one else will.

* * *

A few passes of the joint and I felt as high as I've ever been. Jasper was rambling off about some Star Trek episode where Capitan Kirk died, again. We decided to smoke in the alley, like we used to. Our spot was in the moonlight, which made our skin glow with a soft radiance. I tilted my head back and allowed myself a moment to drink in Jasper's form. His skin had a fair pallor, stretched across long, graceful limbs. The pale yellow hair washed him out, complimented by eyes the color of jeweled emeralds. His cheekbones were high and full, but not full enough—he worked at the Stop 'N Shop and had to choose between food and electricity. For one more second, I let myself wonder how soft his cheek would be—until I caught myself.

"So, where is Bella?" I asked, needing to change the subject to something more distracting. He answered me with a howling laugh, almost music to my ears.

"I'll tell you something," he choked out, "the shit I've put up with to be with her really wasn't worth it." He shifted and gave me a look that I couldn't place. "She never was." He then took another toke, leaving a somber silence between us.

"Well, it took you long enough to catch on," I said, finally breaking the mood. He nodded, then turned himself toward me.

"I have a tendency to be pretty oblivious. Especially when what I want is right in front of me." Before I could question what was going on, his lips were on mine. And time stood still for us. All of my blood rushed to my head and I felt the ground moving, but I was stationary. When he pulled back a blush stung on my cheeks as if it was tattooed there. I stared at him blankly for a split second as he smiled, all the way up to his eyes.

"No..." The word slipped from my lips as a whisper first, before the tears came. His brows furrowed in concern and a little puzzlement, a look of knowing he had done something wrong but not knowing what it was.

"No!" I yelled out, standing up.

"I don't want to be the consolation prize! I don't want to be the rebound guy, Jasper. How could you do this to me?" He shot to his feet, coming toward me to calm me down. "Emmett, I know this hurts you, but I know you are the one for me. I think about you all the time and I can always count on you. Even for the hard stuff—like this." He wrapped his arms around me, this time in a lover's embrace. I yearned to give in, to hold him and not think about it any longer. But my pride won out against me as I pushed him away.

"Why do this now, Jasper? I've loved you since we met, since I learned about you and who you are as a person. I've watched you from the sidelines and silently prayed that one day I'd be with you, that I'd be happy—even though it seemed so unlikely. But not like this, Jasper. Not like I'm the final pick for the team." I turned on the heels of my sneakers and started walking away.

"I'll wait for you Emmett," he called out to me. "I'll wait for you, as long as it—" And that's when the sound of gunshots changed everything forever.

* * *

Do you know that feeling you get when you're sitting in class and your leg falls asleep? That blank heavy numbness before the pins and needles start to tingle? That feeling was a blanket wrapped around my body. It was skin tight, with no room to move. His blood stained all of my uniform. I held him while he bled out, using everything I'd learned in my useless med school trying to save him. The books don't tell you what to do if you fail. So I did the only thing I could—I shut down.

Angela ran out to the alley to see me curled up next to the body. She hid the weed, then called the paramedics. By the time they got there his eyes were a slate green, dull, glazed and void of any of the happiness I once saw in them. I was questioned, whereupon I told them my back was turned. The cops chalked it up to a mugging attempt, although his ID and wallet were still in the pockets of his jeans. No one offered their condolences. The only family he had left was a few cousins in Ohio. No one would come to get the body soon. And all I could do was stare at it. Blankly. The cold, lifeless thing that was once my best friend lay on the table in the morgue. Never would I see that dazzling smile that I was accustomed to every day. Never would I be hugged by his strong arms, slightly freckled from his stint as a swimmer. And his eyes wouldn't light up when he saw me anymore—they'd just stare back. Blankly.

"I need to go home." My voice was flat and raspy from screaming at him—begging for him to hold on, that everything I said didn't matter and that I needed him, loved him. And he never heard it. It was too late, too soon. A female police officer escorted me to my apartment, which remained the same way I had left it. The title screen to Kingdom Hearts 2 flashed on the television. Tiny Cat growled at me for her meal. I grabbed a handful of kibble and let it fall sloppily into her dish. My notes lay scattered on the bed, my essay still not completed. Next to them was my bag, filled with tools we used sometimes in class—one being a very sharp scalpel. I was just tired, exhausted to the point that I'd make Atlas look like a wimpy teenager. Without thinking, I wrote on the kitchen pad "Sorry. I have to go too," brandished the scalpel I'd obtained, and ran it up the length of my left arm. The sting was like a note plucked on a harp string, resonating to the depths of my core. I did the same to my right arm, slowly—for I was shaking from the nerves that had shut down with the incision. The blood ran in rivulets down the length of my arm, blending seamlessly with his bloodstains on my shirt. I was glad for us to be together in some way, even if it was a twisted thought. I sat on my couch, still dingy from the day I purchased it from Mr. Li, the landlord. Boy, would he be pissed. As I felt myself slip into the dark unknown, I couldn't help but wonder why a beautiful blonde was sitting on the coffee table across the way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Hey guys, I hope you all are still with me. This is my first fic and I am very excited to see where this goes. Obviously, this is a slash. Please don't knock it, Emmy is awesome. Hopefully, You guys enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing this out. There will be drama, and action, and lots of steam. And, don't worry. Edward is bound to fall out of the sky...at some point. So without further rambling, enjoy.

**P.S.- Please Review! That is all. **

* * *

And now I was screaming again, my whole body throbbing with a foreign feeling that I knew all too well. It was the same feeling I got while I was swimming with some of the neighborhood kids when I was twelve. It told me to run away, that danger loomed around the corner. That day, three kids were swept into a whirlpool that had formed in the lake.

I had felt it many times before, but now it came to me twenty-fold. It spread out to my fingertips, knitting closed the cuts that had been draining me just moments ago. It covered me from head to toe, altering me. And then it quieted, still there but a little less intense. I opened my eyes to sunlight. It shocked me because I made the attempt while it was still dark. Rosalie was propped up against the wall, watching me. Her garb had changed into a soft white sundress and a pair of golden Spartan sandals. She walked toward me, an odd stiffness replacing her usual sway. In a moment of disbelief I watched her trip on the hem of the dress, uttering a curse under her breath.

"How the hell did you get into my apartment?" I yelled, ignoring the fact that I looked like I walked off the set of a Wes Craven film.

"Well, you sure are grumpy in the morning," she drawled, smoothing out the wrinkle she made. "I was here all night making sure your Awakening went as smoothly as possible. It's not every day a goddess gets reincarnated, so they sent the best. And believe me, sugar, I am the best at what I do." For a second, I thought I really had died and was in a personalized hell accompanied by this Georgian freak. But then I remembered her being there only hours before.

"What do you mean 'a goddess gets reincarnated?'" I demanded. "I don't see any goddess-like person roaming around. And what does that have to do with me?" She let out a shrill bark of laughter, like a wild hyena catching a whiff of a dead baboon.

"Seriously," I continued, "Where is she? Come out, Aphrodite! Where are you, Kali-Durga? Am I going to have lunch with the holy Mystra?" Rosalie shook her head, stifling giggles while I fumed impotently at this idiot woman talking about a goddess. How could there be any gods who would watch my life turn into a pile of shit and do nothing?  
She smiled at me sadly.

"Oh my dear Emmett, you are the goddess." The first thing I processed was the fact that she used my full first name, sounding like Sister Mary Agnes—from my early years in Catholic school. And then it hit me.

"Let me make this clear. I'm not a goddess. I have too much of something to ever be referred to as a female and far too little of two other somethings as well. Goodbye." I then grabbed her arm and dragged her sorry ass to my door, opened it, and promptly threw her out. I closed my door with a slam and sighed in relief—until I turned around and saw her sitting on the couch petting Tiny Cat.

"What the ever-loving—"

"You should really understand what I mean when I say I'm the best at what I do," she said, interrupting the cascade of vulgarity threatening to pour from my mouth.

"I am Rosalie, the youngest Daughter of Fate. I have been sent by my employer to make sure you mature into an all-powerful deity. And that meant you losing the one person who held your mortal heart." It took less than a second for it to click.

"You bitch!" I yelled, my body tensing for fight or flight.  
For a moment, my vision was filtered through a white heat, rage beyond words building in my chest. I leapt from where I stood, crashing into her body with the sound of crumbling marble. My fingers gripped her throat in a vice, my strength surprisingly impressive. The detached medical student in me chalked it up to an adrenaline rush. She laughed again, her eyes flashing a brilliant hue, an indescribable viridian color that was definitely unnatural. She lifted me, then threw me back. I braced myself for impact but found myself suspended in the air.

"You may be the one, but you could never best me, child," she growled, her sundress completely incongruous on this creature of pure death.

"Now, I am gonna deliver you to Him and you will not try anything like that again. Do I make myself clear?" I assessed the situation and knew I was doomed. She was probably keeping me alive just to be killed off by this 'Him' she kept referring to. And I had no chance for reprieve.

"Crystal." I spat out, mollifying her enough to release me.

"Good. Now, I have orders to bring you to get sized for a suit. I find that with your new features, you'd look astounding in a nice, dark grey."  
I got up from the floor and just kept my head down while she talked. No surprise it caught me off guard when she suggested I take a quick shower and dress in clean clothes. I sulked off to the bathroom in defeat, slamming the door behind me. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I immediately understood what she was talking about.  
My eyes were wide and brilliant, the dangerously calm color of seas before a storm. I looked away before I could take in any other changes—I couldn't take any more change. Showering quickly, I dried off and changed into my favorite shirt—a cheap white cotton v-neck with an iron-pressed image of Mystra's holy symbol on the front—and a black hoodie. I emerged from the bathroom to see Rosalie actually playing with Tiny Cat.

"Why can't I get the royal treatment too?" I muttered, walking to the front door.

"I have a really good feeling about her, as opposed to you," she retorted as we exited.

* * *

We arrived at Le Noir de Nuit, Rosalie's personally owned shop, via Mini Coupe. We were greeted by a swarm of aspiring designers, assaulted with champagne at the door and Rosalie made it a point to actively engage herself in a deep conversation about the plunging neckline of a sleek red evening gown. Personally I thought it wrecked the dress completely—too much skin, not enough satin—but no one asked me. When someone finally mentioned my presence, I was immediately whisked to the V.I.P changing room to wait for my sizing.

It was a grand room of mirrors, ceiling to floor. A plush red ottoman doBellated the center of the room, covered in invitingly soft pillows. I sat down and waited, feeling like a captured damsel soon to be in distress. I took a minute to let myself feel, but closed that door as soon as I had opened it. It was still too fresh, too soon. And now I also had to worry about blondes dolling me up for God knows what. Just as my hope seemed to run out, a voice rang out from the corners of the room.

"Hello?"

I jumped, not surprised that even this dressing room had a bit of spookiness in it.

"I see you. Goddess, you must be really powerful."  
I looked around, unable to place a face to the voice. I thought about it, searching for a speaker system. But this was an old building, and there was no hint of such a thing.

"In front of you, in the mirror."

I gazed at expansive mirror before me. Something about it seemed off, a glimmer of something covered by the mundane. Without thinking, I wiped at the open air before me. As if on command, the image in the mirror shifted from my reflection to an entirely different scene. A young woman, with a raven pixie haircut that enhanced her fairy-like features, stood amongst a white void of a room. Something about her seemed really familiar, and yet I'd never seen this girl before in my life.

"Finally! I thought I was going to have to guide you step by step. You really have the Gift, don't you?" Her bright hazel eyes danced mischievously, as if a plan was forming in her jauntily-cocked noggin. She started whispering to herself thoughtfully, twisting the very ends of her hair in knots.

"Who are you?" I asked, well worn-out with greetings. Her attention snapped back to me and I felt it—I knew I could trust her.

"There isn't any time! You have to free me from this seal while I have enough power to stay in this looking glass." She started tracing at the transparent barrier, leaving trails of fluorescent grey marks on its surface. I really didn't know how I was going get myself out of this room, let alone her out of some kind of Lewis Carroll fanfic. She finished her drawing with a neat circle between two rows of symmetrical runes that looked like a cross between Celtic knots and Sumerian cuneiform.

"How?" I asked, somehow knowing her freedom granted mine. But as soon as I asked the question, I knew its answer. Hopping off the couch, I slammed my palm into the circle while focusing all of the strange humming power within me into that point. It was almost as if time hiccupped briefly, before the sound filled my ears. Glass, sparkling and glittered, flew in the air as I was thrown backwards. I landed on with a slam on my back, knocking all the wind out of me. The mysterious girl landed next to me in an elegant dancer's crouch her grip placed tightly on a greatsword made of a strange green glass material that looked as fragile as it did sharp. My eyes grew to dinner-plate size as she effectively swung an arc, landing in the soft crease of a previously-unnoticed intruder's shoulder.

"Move now!" she yelled at me as a bullet whizzed past my head. The intruder's friends were shooting wildly as if to keep us corralled without harming us. I grabbed the weapon of the dead stranger, a gun made of a strange blue-black material. It was extremely hot to the touch.

"Hey! Be careful with that," she yelled out in a scolding tone. Sister Mary-Agnes was everywhere today.

"Why?" I asked as a shower of dust billowed over my head, hiding me but hindering my sight. She thrust the sword hard, the hilt of her weapon meeting her opponent's belly.

"The rounds are loaded with phoenix ash," she grunted, blocking the brunt of the enemy's swing at her. "It's one of the few things that can completely kill you now." I turned toward her, accidentally shooting one man in the leg.

"What's the difference from a regular one?" I asked, narrowly ducking another shot.

"Follow me!" She rolled, incapacitating another foe before running in one direction. I ran quickly behind her, only realizing we were exiting through a mirror in mid-jump. We landed at the same time, my body mimicking her landing. We took off running again, not caring if anyone saw two people jump out of the second story of a building.

* * *

We kept up our fast pace, parting the sea of busy people during the work day. A veiled scarf adorned the girl's left arm. But I knew better—that's where she hid the huge sword.

"Hey, stop!" I yelled, halting in the crowd.

"We have no time, I have to get you Shrouded," she huffed, out of breath.  
I approached her carefully, holding my hands up in case she decided to slice my ham as well.

"Can we talk? What the hell happened there?" I kept my eyes on that scarf, and then it was obvious. A mark almost like Rosalie's covered her forearm, but whereas Rosalie's solid red, this girl's was just an empty black outline. My mouth automatically dropped.

"I can explain," she whispered, drawing me aside, "I am Rosalie, the Middle Daughter of Fate." I backed away, not knowing what to say. Her eyes were filled with remorse as she continued on with her explanation.

"I am the one who pulls the weave, who sees what is to transpire. And I have seen so many things, Emmett. Wars ravaged in the name of unspeakable travesties. Hungers while the greedy stockpile for themselves. Countless diseases destroying thousands of nations with no reprieve. I have seen everything to come. But it is not the worst to come." She looked down to the ground, her warrior guise washed away to reveal a scared person.

"I have seen the everlasting cycle slaughtered. And it all begins with your submission. You are a direct link to the thing that gives all things, even life, existence. The fact that you can dispel glamour and destroy barriers is only a taste of the things you can do. Everything exists because of the Goddess. And apparently you are the next in line to take that charge. Her words slowly dripped in, the very truth ringing in every syllable. Whether I liked it or not I was responsible for the very meaning of existence. Every breath I take insures life itself, for everything that was or ever would be, would continue.

_"I chose you for a reason."_

In that moment I felt everything. The birds in the trees, the sun in the sky, everything was connected. And the center was close to me. In that moment, I knew I had no choice. My fate had been decided. Now it was up to me to choose what I did with it.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, accepting the charge. She shook her head in a way that our problems had just begun.

"That's the problem. I can't see who is behind this, which means it is either inevitable or the culprit is extremely deadly. And the former is not true."  
We stood there for silently for a few moments before Sam hugged me. It was a tight lock, of the purest gestures I've seen.

"I know this doesn't make up for any of the pain you had to go through. I'm sorry for what you'll have to endure. And I'm sorry that he died, Emmett. He didn't deserve it. It was too soon for him." She pulled back and her eyes burned with compassion as the tears rolled down her face.

"But I am grateful to you. Your sacrifices won't be in vain. As long as I can, I will devote my life to repaying you for everything you're doing. We all owe our very breath to you. So I will train you and protect you for as long as I can." I felt like an anchor had been wrapped around my legs and thrown into the ocean. Being the savior of the universe really wasn't on my list of things to accomplish my lifetime. Especially with what it took to get to that status.

We continued on to the lower part of the downtown district, coming up to the duplex building that Jasper used to live in. My copy of the key felt heavy in my pocket. It felt even heavier as I pushed it into the deadbolt lock, slightly resistant to turning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, I know it's been a long time. Life...am I right? I will be posting on a day to day basis from here on out, so just bear with me.**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own any twilight characters, actions, etc. Let's proceed, shall we?**

* * *

I could feel Jasper throughout the house, as if it was all a dream and he was about to turn the corner with a cup of black and a cigarette. His laughter echoed in my head, sweet yet gruff. Falling to my knees, I finally broke down. The facts were crystal clear: He was gone. Poof. And I was the one person who needed him so that I could function. So I could wake up each day and not care about the everlasting shit-tastic details of my own life. I broke down and mourned for my best friend. Alice stood behind me, head hung in reverence. When all that was left of me were jagged breaths, I stood.

"What do you need?" Alice asked, her arms crossed in a way that made her look tiny. Looking around, everything was in it's place. His laundry lay folded neatly on the couch, waiting for him to come back. The dishrag tossed over the bar-stool chair, because he absolutely loathes doing them and that's where I left it. Stepping over the minuscule coffee table, I spot something of his- the Dr. Pepper shirt that was a present from his mom for our Graduation Day. She died shortly after we left for college, an aneurysm. He slept in that shirt every fucking day.

"Just a few things, and then we can go." I replied, grabbing one of his messenger bags and shoving random memories into it. His small cd collection, our laptop that we spent a small portion of spring break washing cars for. I walked into his bedroom and found it, sitting on his dresser. It was just a simple leather cord knotted around a bit of Rose Quartz, bit to me it was something far more.

I couldn't stand it. Grabbing the necklace and the other things i had picked out, I was out the door with Alice on my heels.

"Wait! Where are you going?!" She screamed out behind me, catching my pace with flitting steps. I stopped and turned around mid-stride.

"Do you have some sort of fucking plan in store? Because someone i loved was killed and it's like no one cares for him." Our eyes locked and she cringed at my appearance. I personified wrath, my statuesque build looking more feral and powerful.

"I'm gonna fuck their world up." I spat, sounding close to insane. Alice gave me another once-over, then tightened the sash holding her sword. The meek, compassionate girl had transformed into a steel orchid of a woman before my eyes.

"Let's go," She replied, taking the lead, "It's time i had a family reunion."

* * *

"The people you are turning your sight to aren't to be taken easily." We had reached our presumed destination, a dark alleyway that showed just how well waste management was around here.

"The dark things that people dream about really do exist. They will try and snuff out your light, Big Guy."

We approached a door, a rusty red steel with cruddy graffiti on it.

"We are gonna need all the help we can get. So, I'll let you know that i really don't like the fact that we have to come to this guy. " I raised a brow at her, still a little confused as to why we were even here.

"Don't say I didn't warn you..." she mumbled, pulling the door handle. A vortex like pull drug us forward and at once, I found myself in the middle of a dance floor filled with people. Lights flashed everywhere in beat with a dubstep track featuring Evanescence. I mentally groaned, Evanescence being a favorite band of mine and the though of their songs being "wubbwubbed" bothered me. The people dancing were covered in leather that actually didn't look like a sadomasochistic porn shoot. The dance moves were intricately graceful, yet sharp. Hypnotized, i felt myself start to drift until Alice grabbed my arm and yanked me close to her.

"It'd be wise if you didn't get lost here." She whispered in my ear. I complied, grounding myself as much as i could. We drove through the masses, making our way to a closed off section guarded by two men. Both had russet skin and shortly cropped hair, with mirror-like frowns plastered on their mugs.

"Are we supposed to get past them? How? Invisibility Cloak?" They almost towered me, which was a little impressive. Alice walked up to the guard on the right and showed them the mark on her arm. The man's eyes widened slightly before he opened the door for her. I stepped forward to follow only to be blocked by the guard on the left.

"He's with me, boys." Alice chirped, placing her hand on the sword grip. The punk stepped back, a dejected look twisting his face.

"Little dick syndrome sucks." I chuckled as I glided past the idiot. We entered a hallway with only one set of doors at the end. A strange vibe creeped up my spine, causing me to tense up.

"Whatever you do, don't break anything," Alice said as we reached the doors. They were a beautiful mahogany with a lion caved into it's center. "He is really whiny about his crap." As we proceeded into the next room, I felt as if we had been transported to Paradise. It was almost majestic, waterfalls cornered the room thet was decked out in white and red marble. A small pool was placed in the center, molded in a neo-classical fashion. The walls were covered in hanging lilies and orchid blossoms. My chest felt light as I took in the sight of the entire room.

"Sister! How wonderful it is to see you!" A voice from the other end of the room called. I turned my head, catching sight of the deepest shade of emerald green I ever crossed. He wore nothing but tight black leather pants and a crooked smile. His skin was fair and perfect, the color of cream, was stretched over taut and lean muscle. A copper mess of hair sat on his head, giving the impression that he just rolled out of bed.

"I just got out of bed." He announced, walking toward us with his arms outstretched for an embrace.

"Hello, Edward." Alice chimed, swooping in for the hug. As they pulled apart, his sights were set directly on me. He held his chin in hand for a second before stretching and yawning.

"Alice, dear, you really expect me to believe that the goddess incarnate is this oaf toed hurricane on legs? I don't think so." He mused, falling backward and landing on an ottoman cushion that wasn't there before.

"Edward-" she started, only to be cut off by the sound of my fist swiping his jaw.

* * *

So, that escalated quickly. Take that, you swanky bastard. I'd like to thank you guys for all the views, especially Panic's NearlyWitches who's awesome

review kept me focused while writing. I'll also be doing hand drawn scenery and character portraits that will be posted on the web on a later date.

Stay breezy guys.

**P.S.**- I'm considering a beta reader. Any takers?


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